Last week, my husband called and uttered those oft-feared words, “There’s a problem at the house.”
I immediately prepared myself to lie. Running through a quick mental list of problems I’ve caused at our house – but which Dear Husband has not yet stumbled upon – I decided the stove was the likely culprit.
“Listen,” I started. “I’m not entirely sure why the stove top now smokes-”
That’s when he cut me off and informed me that we have far bigger problems than I’d anticipated. “I already know you did something to the stove. This is about the guy across the street. He’s been out there with a ladder all day, and now he’s got a reindeer.”
“A reindeer?” Shit. We haven’t even found our holiday wreath yet, let alone considered which members of Santa’s Royal Family we need to purchase for lawn ornamentation purposes.
“Yeah, a flippin’ reindeer,” came my husband’s reply. “And it’s animatronic.”
With those few words, the gauntlet was laid. I am an innately competitive person. That’s why I’m no longer allowed to play recreational women’s soccer. My husband is competitive in one of those quiet “I’m-really-here-just-for-the-fun-of-it” ways. He secretly harbours the ambition of the Trojans on the inside. In short, we don’t come to play. We come to go all friggin’ out. Neither one of us cares about the win, per se. It’s more a matter of bringing our ultimate game and enjoying the fight. Suburban decorating challenges are no exception.
So we’ve been planning all week. We’ve measured every window in the house. We’ve scoped out every major big box store selling lights. We’ve even considered – if only briefly – getting something up on the roof to one up that bugger across the street.
We had just about laid our strategy when we took a break last night. We were enjoying a glass of wine with some friends when I noticed that what’s-his-face over there was up to something. The four of us stood in our living room window, wine be damned, watching as he added another layer of icicle lights behind the garland. Let me tell you, it gives quite the effect. Back to the drawing board. We reviewed our light lay-out in detail looking for opportunities to kick things up. I almost yelled “Bam” aloud when I remembered the light up Candy Canes I’d seen earlier in the day. We had time for one more trip to the store before closing. Ha.
So today is the day, kids. We’re calling it The First Annual Crombie Family Decorating Day. We’ve got our long johns and our mitts ready. We’ve got 800 feet of multicolored lights. We’ve found our wreath. We’re investing in a holiday door mat. And the dog dusted off his festive reindeer antlers. It’s go time. We’re all over this thing.
You could say our competitive spirit has overshadowed our holiday spirit. But we know better than that. For us, we’ve had something to focus on and laugh about and work on – together – all week. There are bills to pay. Many bills. There are family storms to weather. There are issues raging around us that we can’t fix, but care deeply about. Christmas was the last thing on our minds. But then came this reprieve. This focus. This moment. And in all our competitiveness, while we were discussing the merits of colour schemes and a snowflake machine, our holiday spirit came creeping quietly in. And for me, this week, that was more than enough.
